Open Poetry #12 |
Just Below |
PoeticKnight Senior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 1144New Orleans, LA |
Just below the surface there is a sadness What some might call a madness He calls a strength, a refuge of his own Lurking under layers of flesh Breaking through each, one by one He lies just below and out of sight Out of sight and out of mind Through words and deeds And stuck in time Apart, he is whole again Silence is the noise wrapped in shades of red Turned another page, yet another day To see what she saw inside his head But his eyes saw only what could have been instead Just below the surface he is all that he sees And all that he will ever be There come others to pick the bones One, two, three Yet still deeper and deeper he roams Scared he doesn’t have enough in him To fill all the vacant little holes Replacing with useless vigor The tarnished surface with lower lows The same sound reverberates in his ears Of the last thing that she said That she came to know he was still alive Before his eyes had turned to red But his eyes were already dead |
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© Copyright 2001 J.M. Landry - All Rights Reserved | |||
PoeticKnight Senior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 1144New Orleans, LA |
Just tossing this one out there... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hmmm...what is that seething just below the surface, eh? Enjoyed, as always. " Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." |
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Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
Change the gender, and a woman would and could have said it, the same....a haunting write....and well done..... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Just below the surface there is a sadness What some might call a madness He calls a strength, a refuge of his own ========================= Out of sight and out of mind Through words and deeds And stuck in time Apart, he is whole again Silence is the noise wrapped in shades of red Turned another page, yet another day To see what she saw inside his head But his eyes saw only what could have been instead ============================ Yet still deeper and deeper he roams Scared he doesn’t have enough in him To fill all the vacant little holes Replacing with useless vigor The tarnished surface with lower lows The same sound reverberates in his ears Of the last thing that she said That she came to know he was still alive Before his eyes had turned to red But his eyes were already dead ================================== Excuse me while I go find new adjectives and superlatives for the following defines for your poetry ... intense ... deep ... cool ... (way cool) "Silence is the noise wrapped in shades of red Turned another page, yet another day To see what she saw inside his head (she saw poetry) *L* But his eyes saw only what could have been instead" very very cool PK "toss" as often as inspired ... I collect em. We wish ourselves beautiful, |
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